Margaret paced the floor, back and forth, stopping occasionally to stare at Lottie in wounded sadness and shake her head. Lottie found her sister’s disappointment more viscerally brutal than anger and rage would have ever been.
“Really, Margaret, you are beingun peu mélodramatique.” Grandmère continued to embroider in front of the fire. “Thank goodness you sent Freddie out with his nurse. I should not like him to see uscomme ça.”
“This is Freddie’s future we are speaking of, Grandmère. You both promised us that Dr. Whitaker had agreed to sign the attainder once he reached London. We trusted you. And then word ofher—” Margaret pointed a finger at Lottie. “—goings on with Dr. Whitaker reached us.”
Well, notallher goings on, clearly, Lottie thought.
Surely the London gossips were not quite so thorough as to glean information only an hour after it occurred.
Thank goodness.
Her lips still burned from the pressure of Alex’s mouth.
Her cheeks, however, were aflame from the mortifying implications of such kisses.
She could hear a rumble of male voices next door in the library. Frank had dragged Alex there. Lottie hoped and prayed that her brother-in-law was not subjecting Alex to a similarly grueling inquisition.
The poor man did not deserve it.
Thank goodness Ferndown had remained in London, as the king still required his presence.
“It is all anyone speaks of—Lady Charlotte and Dr. Whitaker.” Margaret stared at Grandmère who continued to pull threads through a length of stretched linen. “I had to hear it from Lady Gardner, who, as you well know, is one of the most prolific gossips in Town. Lady Gardner begged me—beggedme, I say!—to tell her it was true. That Lady Charlotte Whitaker had developed a tendre for Dr. Alexander Whitaker and—” Here Margaret’s voice broke, becoming hoarse with emotion. “—how delighted our father would have been to have his heir-apparent marry his youngest daughter.”
Margaret’s unshed tears rested like an anvil on Lottie’s chest.
“What could I say to Lady Gardner?” her sister whispered. “That Lottie would never betray myself and Freddie so? That such an alliance was untrue?”
Margaret had been berating Lottie for nearly thirty minutes now.
Lottie feared she herself had moved from pain and embarrassment to a sort of numbed horror over her actions.
Yes. She had forgotten her duty to Margaret and Freddie, to the people she loved longest and best. She knew from the start, did she not, that any romantic entanglement with Alex would lead only to heartache and betrayal.
What had she thought would happen? That she would kiss Alex, return home, and then curl up in her bedchamber, touching her lips and trying to understand how such a small part of her could hold so much sensation? That they could forge a future together that did not somehow impact Freddie and the marquisate?
No. That had been a fairy tale.
She had been willfully blind.
Or, at the very least, blinded by the allure of a certain Scottish doctor.
She had wanted to imagine a different life for herself, and so she had opened her eyes to the hope of Alex. But just because she had glimpsed that life did not mean she would embrace it.
She squeezed her eyes shut before Margaret could read the awful truth there.
“Heavens! Open your eyes, Lottie. You cannot hide from this,” Margaret scolded, pacing before the fire again, dabbing at her eyes. “The second they heard of your behavior, the Committee on Privilege informed Ferndown that the matter sounded settled in Alex’s favor. A marriage between Dr. Whitaker and Lady Charlotte neatly solves the problem, as far as they are concerned. Such an alliance allays both their concerns: it adheres to laws of primogeniture, as Dr. Whitaker is technically the heir, and honors our late father’s request that his grandchild inherit his title. Completely neglecting, of course, that Father wantedFreddieto inherit, not an unborn son of Lottie and Dr. Whitaker—”
“There isnounderstanding between Dr. Whitaker and myself,” Lottie interjected, cheeks aflame. “Certainly no talk of marriage.”
Of course, even that was a bit of lie, was it not?
A lady did not spend an afternoon passionately kissing a gentleman without the thought of marriage crossing both their minds.
And now she was thinking of Alex’s son. Of a small boy with his same steel eyes and mink-brown hair looking at her with solemn seriousness as he lisped a question—
“It doesn’t matter what isactuallygoing on—or not—between yourself and Dr. Whitaker.” Margaret shook her head. “You have been seen together. Tongues are wagging. The Committee is looking for anything that will sway their votes. The process of attainting a dead man was fraught from the beginning. But it has now become doubly so, when Lords sees this acceptable alternate solution.” Margaret pressed a hand to her chest, dabbing at her eyes again. “I have been at a loss as to how to proceed. How you could have so quickly forgottenfamilae primum semper cognosce?”
“I haven’t forgotten!”
